


Needle and Thread

by Chericola



Category: Deltora Quest - Emily Rodda
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chericola/pseuds/Chericola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in her life, Jasmine tries on a dress. A torturous experience, to be sure...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needle and Thread

If there was one thing that was more torturous than being trapped in a closed, airless cell in Dread Mountain, it was this, Jasmine thought, gazing dismally through the palace window at the myriad cottages of the city of Del strewn below her like a sea of stone and mortar. Being trapped in a palace made of stone within a city made of stone was unbearable enough. But this made the thought of returning to the Forests of Silence even more tantalizing than usual, even if it meant leaving behind all she cared about- Lief, Barda and, loath though she was to admit it, Doom.

She stood in front of the full-body-length gilded mirror situated in the lady Sharn's sparsely furnished bedchamber, fidgeting and pulling at the tight collar of the very restrictive and layered dress Sharn had managed to accost her into. On the window sill Kree and Filli perched, peering up at her with staunch curiosity. They did not judge her; they never judged her for any of the choices she made. However, Jasmine half-hoped that she would see some form of disapproval in Kree's eyes, something that would help her get out of this torture.

'It used to be my own, when I was living in the palace as a girl,' Sharn was saying, her forehead creasing slightly as she deftly stitched at a rip in the skirt of the gown made long ago by who knew what. Jasmine liked to think that Sharn had ripped it while climbing a tree or playing the games children usually play; however, gazing at the straight-backed figure of the dark-haired, elegant former queen, Jasmine could not imagine her doing any of those things. 'I had thought it lost, for the Shadow Lord bade his servants destroy everything on the night of the attack. But not long ago I found this in a chest in my old bedchamber.' She smiled up at Jasmine. 'I thought it might suit you, Jasmine. We are close to the same size as well; see, I have mended the dress so that it may not be too loose now on you.'

Reluctantly, Jasmine found herself returning the older woman's smile. It was hard not to like Sharn, though Jasmine had only met her three months before. At first, she had been wary of her and her overtures of friendship, desperate as she was to return to the Forests of Silence that were her true home. She had been wary of everyone in the city except Lief and Barda. Doom as well, she supposed. But Sharn was persistent, and slowly Jasmine had felt herself softening to her almost motherly affection.

'I am grateful for your kindness, Sharn,' she said, as she had countless times during the last few hours. 'I know you mean well, but I do not need a dress.'

And as she had done each time, Sharn looked up at her, smiling and shaking her head. 'But Jasmine, you would look much more beautiful in a dress. And in burgundy red, as well! It is a fine colour, and it suits you very well.'

Jasmine sighed, knowing that she would not be able to change Sharn's mind. The former queen was incredibly strong-willed and clever, both of which Jasmine had come to respect her for. She had survived sixteen years in hiding as a blacksmith's wife, and in addition months of imprisonment and certain death at the Place of Punishment, and through it all had never lost hope or given up. It was something that Jasmine admired greatly, and understood. She had expected no less from the former Queen of Deltora, who had reportedly pushed the former (and deceased) Chief Advisor Prandine from the palace tower window as her husband and Jasmine's own father looked on in amazement.

In truth, she would have been perfectly content to continue wearing her own clothes, wrought from the fabric of the uniforms of Grey Guards who had fallen prey to the Wennbar in First Wood. In fact, she had insisted upon it. They were light, loose and simple to travel in, and if they were torn or stained it would not cost a fortune to repair them. She had survived in those clothes for her entire life, and they had suited her well. Why discard them now?

However, Sharn- as well as Doom, Barda, Lief and Zeean of Tora- had insisted upon it. And that was how she found herself standing before a gilded mirror in Sharn's chamber, wishing she were anywhere else. Her feet ached from hours and hours of standing without rest, so much so that it was a wonder her legs had not given way yet. Her muscles were tight with the need to move, to do something to alleviate the boredom that had been her lot for the past three hours. But all she could do was breathe evenly and deeply as Sharn sewed, snipped and pricked her dress into place.

Sharn was right, she knew. The denizens of Del and even the palace did not seem to dress as she did in her roughly stitched grey shirt and pants. The women wore simple, flowing dresses, while the men all wore shirts and trousers. Already she had been the source of much staring on their part as they saw her strange outfit and the creatures that always accompanied her everywhere; Filli perched on her shoulder and Kree flying above her head. It would be better not to further increase their suspicions by choosing to don Grey Guards' clothes, no matter how much she was comforted by that small piece of her old life. The people of Del had endured much under the Shadow Lord's tyranny, and were naturally suspicious of any person who acted strangely. It stemmed from the fear which remained even now of the Shadow Lord's many spies, who had hid in darkened alleys and brought death to any soul unfortunate enough to encounter them. Jasmine did not blame them for this; if she were in their place she would act the same.

She just stopped herself from tugging at the collar again, gritting her teeth as she did so. Curse this tightness! 'Are palace dresses often so tight?'

Sharn glanced at her briefly, and Jasmine saw a hint of amusement in her dark eyes, as well as sympathy. 'Unfortunately, yes. I am sure you will get used to it.'

To that, Jasmine said nothing. She may have chosen to stay in the palace for the time being, but she still had to get accustomed to all the oddities of her new life there, as well as the people. Though she hated to admit it, it was unnerving at times to feel so lost and helpless when Lief, Barda and others were not.

'There,' Sharn said in a satisfied tone of voice. 'It is done.' Deftly she straightened, and stood, her eyes shining with excitement. 'We must show Zeean. Will you be able to move, Jasmine?'

Jasmine glanced at the folds of her skirt, where somewhere below her feet lay. 'I am not sure,' she said honestly. 'But I will try.'

In a slow, almost stately fashion the two women moved from Sharn's bedchamber toward the guest bedchamber, where Zeean commonly could be found if she was not in the Great Hall, chatting to old friends and new. It was slow, because Jasmine was forced to stop every few steps to prevent her legs from tangling and tripping in the swirling skirt, Sharn betimes helping her to regain her balance. Despite this, Jasmine set her jaw and held her head high, looking anyone who dared stare at her proudly in the eye. No matter how much she would rather be elsewhere, she had her pride to maintain. If anyone dared to laugh behind their hands at her she would cut them.

They passed Barda, who only nodded and grinned at her, deep in conversation as he was with a member of the new Palace Guard, of which he was naturally the captain. They passed members of the Resistance, who stared with wide eyes, saying nothing. They passed the acrobat Jinks, who curled his mouth at her maliciously and seemed about to make a snide comment when Sharn's stern look stopped him. Jasmine was glad of that, though her hand had already been hovering over the hilt of her dagger, which she had insisted she be allowed to carry during this fashion parade. She knew she would not have been able to hold herself back if Jinks had openly snickered about her.

And then they turned a corner, and found Doom. Doom, her father, who she barely knew even after all the time they had spent together. And Lief. No, not just Lief now, Jasmine reminded herself bitterly. King Lief. King Lief who was so cautious now, and so secretive. He had changed completely from the impulsive young Lief she had known and come to like. It galled her that he refused to bring her into his confidence, instead choosing to rely on Doom, who he had not been willing to trust over three months ago. They had been through so much together on their quest for the gems; how could he not trust her?

She had planned to edge past them in a stately manner, but to her dismay Sharn paused, and smiled at her son and Doom, greeting them as warmly as she greeted all the denizens of the city of Del. Doom nodded curtly at her, but Lief smiled (ruefully, Jasmine thought), and leaned over to peck his mother on the cheek.

'I have not seen you often enough,' Sharn said to Lief, gently scolding. 'Whatever business the both of you are up to, I do wish you would take time for us to speak. I have not seen you properly in days.'

Lief grinned. 'I am sorry, Mother. I will try, but our business is urgent.'

Sharn shook her head, smiling. 'So urgent that you cannot spend time with your family? Oh, Lief.' No one missed the hidden grief that lingered in her eyes. Though it had been three months since his death, Sharn had still not fully recovered from losing her husband, the late King Endon. She had loved him deeply, Jasmine had heard, for all theirs had been an arranged marriage.

'We will talk soon, Mother,' Lief promised.

To Jasmine's surprise, she thought she saw Doom's face soften ever so slightly. However, when he noticed her frown his face shifted into his customary expression. With raised eyebrows he looked her over, from her tangle-free dark hair to her long, flowing, lacy crimson gown, and turned away without saying a word. But from the corner of her eye Jasmine thought she saw his mouth upturn into a half-smile.

Lief, having only just noticed her appearance (something which Jasmine found herself frowning over, for some reason), gaped at her with wide eyes.

'You... you look beautiful, Jasmine,' he blurted out, his eyes lingering on her for more seconds than she was comfortable with.

To her pique, she found herself blushing furiously at his words, and quickly turned away to hide it. But she could not hide the rapid heartbeats that pounded in her, nor the small exultant voice inside herself which said, He thinks you are beautiful! He truly thinks so!

'I am glad you think so,' she said politely. Though she could feel a slight smile hovering in the fringes, aching to be set free, she held it back. Delighted though she was at Lief's reaction, a part of her still hurt at his exclusion of her in whatever business he was up to with her father. His lack of trust in her hurt her. Once he would have trusted her completely with anything he planned.

As abruptly as she had halted, she brushed past them, her head held high, her legs trembling. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

Jasmine felt rather than saw Sharn follow her, and barely heard the words she spoke: 'You are too harsh on Lief, Jasmine.'

She turned to look at the older woman, and did not try to hide her surprise. 'What do you mean?'

'I know you resent that he keeps you in the dark,' Sharn said. 'I do not know all of what occurred during the quest for the gems, but I know that he trusts you with his life, Jasmine. You and Barda both.' Jasmine almost flinched at the force of Sharn's piercing gaze. 'If he is not bringing you into his confidence now, it must be for a good reason. You must believe that.'

Jasmine gritted her teeth, and tried to suppress the pain that flashed in her heart that must surely be evident in her eyes. 'And what of Doom?' How could Lief trust only Doom? Of course she did not begrudge him trusting Doom at all; only that he refused to trust her as well. 'Why would he trust only Doom?'

She felt Sharn's hand gently touch her shoulder, and a shiver ran through her.

'Jasmine,' Sharn said. 'If Lief is doing this, then he has a good reason to. Do not be angry with him, I beg you. I know he trusts you the most out of all his advisors. He would not leave you in the dark if he had any other choice about it.'

Sharn's words made sense, but Jasmine could not make herself dispel the hurt and resentment in her heart. If Lief was trying to protect her, then he was a fool. She could look after herself. Had she not prove so during the time they had journeyed together, restoring the gems to the Belt of Deltora? Or perhaps he had forgotten already. She would not be surprised if he had.

Unable to say anything to counter Sharn, she turned away. Nothing that Sharn claimed mattered. Lief had wounded her terribly with his secrecy and his lack of trust in her, and she was not sure that anything would be the same between them. It was just as well that she did not plan to stay in the palace indefinitely; she had only agreed to live there because Lief had asked her to. With Lief acting as he was, she would be free to return to her true home in First Wood and resume her old life, the life she had had before she had stumbled upon Lief and Barda and her entire fate had changed. Yes, she would miss them, but it would surely be for the best. She knew with all her heart that she did not belong in the city, even when wearing a tight-fitting, lacy burgundy dress which seemed to be the current palace fashion. She belonged in the Forests, where she would not be judged or forced to obey social niceties that she did not care all too much for.

'Jasmine?' As if in a dream, she felt Sharn gently touch her arm. 'Zeean is waiting.'

Jasmine focused her gaze on the older woman, and found herself staring into concerned eyes. Her own eyes pricked at the undeniable worry. Sharn was truly the kindest soul she had ever met. Since her first day in the city she had been looking out for her, despite Jasmine's initial wariness toward her. It reminded her of her mother, or what she could recall of her, who had died in the Shadowlands. According to Doom, her mother had had the same uncommon kindness.

Silently Jasmine nodded, and the two women slowly walked the rest of the way to Zeean's chamber, each of them lost in their own thoughts.


End file.
